Ask Jay: How Do I Forgive?

Hey, it's Jay. I don't know what your day's been like, but I was just thinking about you for a minute, and I hope you're being a little patient with yourself, because you deserve it. And yeah, I'll talk to you soon. Today, I want to explore forgiveness. We're so often told that forgiving someone is the required next step if we want to heal, or that holding on to anger means we're stuck. But forcing forgiveness before you're ready can leave you feeling even more compromised. Healing does not run on a strict schedule, and moving forward does not mean pretending the hurt never happened. Let's dive in. Two years back, I gave a baby. I gave custody of my son to my ex-husband on the account of getting mutual divorce, because I didn't want to go through a contest, and then I've been waiting quite a long time to get the divorce done, but the custody was never an easy thing. So I did that, and within two years, I have faced numerous challenges to be in touch with him, my son, video call, or even to meet, even to take him home. And I keep wondering, because I keep hearing from others that I made a wrong decision of giving away the custody. However, I decided not only on one. Part of how the life would be with me or with my ex-husband, and decided to give away the custody. Now, I sit with, am I a good mother? My question is, did I do right? Is it okay not to feel bad about it? Society makes me feel, but I don't feel it. Is it okay to not feel the feeling of mother and looking towards my new life? It's just these thoughts keep eating me, and then I don't know when I get these questions. I don't get any answers. What a genuinely difficult thing to be sitting with, and thank you for trusting me with it. I've never been through a divorce, and I've never had to make a decision about custody. But I do not need to have experienced those things to know that they're amongst the most complicated situations a person can face, especially when I've coached people through them. It's an understatement to say there is no definitive right way to handle either of them. And I'm so sorry you've been judged. So harshly. Now, you asked me three direct questions. Am I a good mother? Did I do the right thing? And is it okay not to feel bad about it? I honestly can't answer the first two, and I would be suspicious of anyone who claimed they could. There's no settled definition of what makes a good mother or a single standard for having done something right. But there is research on what makes an effective parent, and I think you'll find it reassuring. A psychologist named Robert Epstein. Tested several recommended parenting practices against each other to see which ones predicted not just a strong bond between parent and child, but also whether the child grew up happy and healthy. The practice that ranked number one was love and affection. This includes supporting your child, accepting them, being physically affectionate, and spending quality one-on-one time together. Two of the next three top practices did not even directly involve the child. Managing your own stress, and maintaining a workable relationship with the other parent. Notice that legal custody is not anywhere on that list. It does not name how many nights your child sleeps under your roof, or whose address appears on the paperwork. Everything on that list describes what happens between you and your child when you are actually together, not the administrative circumstances that dictate when that takes place. Which makes me ask, what is your relationship with your son like? When you FaceTime, are you bonding, chatting, laughing, and connecting? The answers to those questions tell you what the relationship truly is, regardless of how it looks to outsiders. Speaking of how things look, there's a study that fits with the situation perfectly. Researcher Sarah Dijon and her colleagues conducted a study where participants were each given a story about a single parent. Every detail of the stories were identical, except some participants were told the parent was a father, while others were told the parent was a mother. When people believed they were reading about a mother, they rated her as less responsible, less moral, less reputable, and less of a good parent than the identical father. Now to address your third question, is it okay not to feel bad about it? First, I'm sorry you feel you even have to ask whether your feelings are valid. But since you asked, let me pose a question back to you. What is it you say? What do you think you should feel bad about? Is it the stigma around your arrangement, like the double standard in that study I just mentioned? Or do you feel that what you have with your son is missing something? If the stigma is what is driving that doubt, you do not owe anyone an apology. Your custody status on its own is not a moral failing. Even if your concern goes deeper than public perception, guilt will not make you any more or less of the mom your son needs. What makes a difference is showing him warmth, reminding him he's loved, and giving him your full attention when you're together. That counts whether you see him for an hour, a weekend, or every single day. And don't forget that reset from earlier, that a parent maintaining their own well-being matters almost as much as looking after their child. Taking care of yourself is not a side quest in parenting. It is a core part of the mission. It's natural after such a big decision that your mind is spiraling. That these thoughts keep repeating in your mind. That you keep questioning whether you did the right thing. That actually shows that you care. It actually shows that you're present. It actually shows you're human. Sometimes we're upset with feeling painful things or asking difficult questions of ourselves. But actually, those are the two reasons that prove we're human, that prove we care, that prove that something matters. And so the sign of these questions, or the sign of these questions, or the sign of you questioning yourself is not unhealthy. It's not wrong. It's actually helpful. It's your brain and your mind making sure of how you feel. It's helping you find new pathways, new opportunities, and new ideas that can lead to this new part of your life. I want you to recognize that you can fully show your son love despite the current setup. You can be an extremely present parent despite this choice. You can be, an extremely fulfilled person in your own life. Even in this situation. Thank you again for sharing your story with me. I hope you and your son are able to navigate the logistical complexities of divorce with love, trust, and warmth. This episode of On Purpose is presented by Ultra Running. We all benefit from having a little more space. So do our feet. That's why Ultra Running shoes feature ultra fit design, giving toes more room for comfort, balance, and strength. They're perfect for running, walking or hiking any pace, any level they feel right from the first step. Go to ultrarunning.com/onpurpose and use code PURPOSE10 for 10% off. That's altrarunning.com/onpurpose. Stay out there. Hi Jay. I'm struggling with a deep layer of guilt around my dad who died about two and a half years ago. My coping mechanism has been to try to maintain control, which causes me to push people away. Years ago, during my parents' divorce, I took my mom's side and treated my dad pretty poorly. He was a great father. He died unexpectedly, leaving me with massive guilt. My ex was my partner during the time I became deeply judgmental of him. And then after my dad died, I couldn't show up as my best self. And we broke up about a year and a half ago. We've reconnected recently and I still love him, but I, I honestly don't know where we stand. I fear I may have already lost him for good. I'm terrified of the unknown. My question is how do I forgive myself for past mistakes? And how do I learn to sit with the painful uncertainty of a relationship's future without trying to control or push it away? Thank you. First of all, I'm so sorry for your loss. And on top of the loss you're dealing with, you're suffering over how you behaved in the divorce years ago and are also navigating the resurfacing of an ex. That's a lot of big feelings. It's actually just a lot in general. And it sounds like what you're trying to change are deep old habits that form to protect you, which is difficult and brave at the same time. So before anything else, I want to acknowledge you for that. Your first question was how to forgive yourself. First, I want to say that divorce rarely brings out the best in people, and it usually doesn't result from things going well. I think it's possible that you had a genuine reason to forgive yourself, to be angry with your dad during that period. That's obviously not an excuse for treating him poorly, and it doesn't make picking a side feel any fairer when you look back on it now. But my bet is that you were doing the best you could at a moment when everyone involved was under enormous strain. And the thing about being a child of divorce is that whether you're eight when it happens or 28, it can feel like your foundation is splitting down the middle. So it's only natural to run to one side, not necessarily because you like that side better, but because in your moment of panic it looked like the same thing. safer side of the hole in the earth. And I love that you told me he was a great dad. I believe you. I hope it's not overstepping to suggest that a great dad like him probably understood that his kid wasn't going to be at their best while the family is coming apart. So let me ask you something. Would it be easier to forgive yourself if you knew he had forgiven you? Because if the answer is yes, then I wonder whether what you're holding on to isn't a belief that what you did was unforgivable. It might just be wishing you could talk to your dad. But the question you came to me with was about forgiveness. So let me answer that directly. There's a great line from the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius's diary where he reminds himself that when he falls short of his personal standards, he shouldn't get disgusted or discouraged. Instead, he says to try again. And he specifies not to do it in a way a child gets marched back to a strict teacher. He says to try again in the way you reach for something that soothes a sore. I hope that resonates. Because you're not the kid being walked back to the teacher's desk. You're tending to something sore. So when you ask how to forgive yourself, that's my answer. Gently, softly, with time. In regards to forgiving yourself for your past mistakes, I want to encourage you to try some things. I'd love for you to write a letter to your dad. A letter expressing everything that hasn't felt like it as a home right now. You miss him. You love him. He was a great dad. It's important to express and vocalize and put out the energy of anything that's currently still sitting inside of you. Put aside some time. Write him a letter. Feel free to read it out. And put it out into the universe. This isn't about receiving anything specific. It's not about forcing a result. It's not about control. It's about making sure that you believe you've had the opportunity to say and share everything that you possibly want. Often we think we need something to get closure. But often the real answer is we need to give something. We need to share something. We need to express something. That never got a chance to be expressed. That never had a home after that person left. So take a moment to try that. Share what you wish you said. Share what you want him to know. Share everything. No matter what it feels like. Good or bad. It's really important that you find a way to move through that. I also believe that it's great that you're trying to forgive yourself. I think a lot of us can hold on to resentment for ourselves in these moments. We can hold on to regret. But knowing that forgiving yourself will actually allow you to be a better daughter, a better sibling, a better partner, a better friend. That forgiving yourself truly, deeply will allow you to heal so that you can move forward in your life and in the other roles with the amazing energy that you have. Now your second question about sitting with uncertainty. You said you're terrified of the unknown. And based on what you've been through, it makes complete sense to me that you'd feel that way. There's a psychologist named Ronnie Janoff-Bullman whose work shows that when something sudden and traumatic happens, like losing a parent with zero warning, it can completely shatter a person's trust in the world. When life feels that unpredictable, the mind naturally looks for a way to regain a sense of control. Paradoxically, that can look like turning inward with guilt or regret or blame. Because if we tell ourselves that we're the reason things went wrong, it gives us the illusion that we hold the steering wheel. It's an exhausting way to cope, but it can feel safer than accepting that life can just be chaotic and painful. That might be why this relationship with your ex carries so much weight right now. Reconnecting could feel a bit like a second chance, the kind of second chance you were never given with your father. There might be a part of you that feels like you're not going to get away with it, but it feels like if you can just handle this situation perfectly, you can protect yourself from going through another devastating loss, avoiding any more regret along the way. And every relationship is different. Obviously, only you know what the safe and appropriate dynamic is between you guys, but I know you don't want to push him away. So when you start to get afraid or anxious as you guys navigate this new chapter, maybe you can tell him that. I'm scared. That's it. See how he shows up. It might be one vulnerable step towards knowing how to do the same for him. Forgiving yourself and loosening your grip are two of the hardest things a person can practice, and you're trying to do both at the same time. So while you're practicing, I hope you can be gentle with yourself about how it goes. Take it slow. He's been in your life for a long time. It's not about missing out on an opportunity because sometimes we think we'll miss out on someone if we move too slow. The truth is you can miss out on a future with someone if you move too fast. It's okay to take things one step at a time in a way that feels slow and natural so that you can truly rebuild trust and know where you stand at every step. One step at a time. A warning before I move on. This next call is going to describe someone with addiction. I'm going to describe someone with addiction. I'm going to depending on where you're getting this episode, you can find resources on addiction in the description. If you or someone you know is struggling, please don't hesitate to use them and listen with care. My late husband of 30 years passed away on April Fool's Day. And when he passed, I learned that despite renewing our vows in 2023, that he was already in the midst of a one and a half year affair. I didn't learn about this till he died. And we found 300 videos of not just the one woman, but several others. He suffered from addiction and we thought he had beat it years ago. Unfortunately, he relapsed and hid it very, very well. Today, I'm trying to heal and I'm trying to figure out how to forgive myself for missing the signs, how to let go of the pain so it doesn't taint future relationships. How do we forgive those we can no longer speak to, but whose actions impact our lives in a deeply significant way? I want to be a good example for our young adult son because I don't want this experience to hinder us from being able to love ourselves or trust others again. How do you apologize to yourself and the ghost? Wow. I mean, first you lose your husband of 30 years and then you learn about a whole part of his life you didn't know existed. So off the bat, it's almost like you're grieving two people, the one you knew and the one you didn't. And that's extremely rough. And I'm so sorry that you're going through that. I can't even begin to imagine how traumatic it's been to find 300 videos after your husband's passing. To learn about betrayal in that vivid way is heartbreaking to say the least. You're so strong for asking these questions, for having the bravery and courage to put this out there, to actually be in a position of wanting to move on and move forward. And I want to share a few things with you. In your message, you said you're trying to figure out how to forgive yourself for missing the signs. I hope it's okay for me to suggest that maybe you don't need forgiveness for failing to see something that was being deliberately hidden from you. Concealment on that scale isn't something that slips past somebody who wasn't paying attention. It takes sustained effort to keep out of view. You're not weak because you think you missed the signs. You're not weak because you didn't make any mistake. You trusted, you connected, you were a good partner. Everything that happened outside of that is completely out of your control and anyone would be as surprised as you are. And that shock is what you need to allow yourself to deal with right now. You have to let yourself feel the shock, feel the stress of it, feel the pain of it before you even begin to think about how you forgive someone who's no longer here, who can't answer your questions, who can't give you closure, who can't express to you why they did what they did and at the scale at which they did it. Allow yourself to experience that shock, that pain and that stress and allow yourself to express it as well. Allow yourself to reveal it. And I imagine a lot of things are rearranging themselves in hindsight right now. But hindsight is a completely different instrument than the one you had at the time. And please know that the burden wasn't on you to catch him cheating. The burden was on him to not cheat. You brought up the idea of the ghost in this situation and you asked a really fundamental question. How do you forgive someone you can no longer speak to? If you feel like not being able to talk to him is the thing standing in your way, I have an interesting story for you. It's about a garden designer in Japan named Itaru Sasaki. When his cousin passed away, Sasaki placed a disconnected phone booth in his yard, that he called the wind phone. He believed that while wires couldn't transmit his his words to the cousin he lost, the wind might. After a local tsunami swept through the region, tens of thousands of grieving people visited that quiet booth to speak to those they had lost. I love that story, and I feel like it's relevant right now, because maybe the answer to your question is simpler than it looks. You want to offer forgiveness, probably some fury, maybe some love underneath, despite how hurt you are. You want to say all of this to someone who isn't here anymore. Maybe you should say it anyway, not with the goal of him hearing it, but just with the goal to get it out. As for your fear that this will permanently ruin your ability to trust, of course your dynamic with trust has shifted greatly. Experiencing grief, betrayal and shock simultaneously will naturally do that to you, which is why I want to pray for you. I want to pray for you. I want to push back on your question about how to let go of the pain. Maybe you don't have to erase what happened to experience love again. In the moments where you inevitably feel the past bubbling up, can you ask yourself, is this paranoia from past damage, or is it proactive discernment? Holding space for that question stops you from swinging between total suspicion and blind trust. And be direct with anyone new you bring into your life. You're allowed to say I went through something huge, and I'm still navigating it. Anyone worthy of you will meet you where you are. Don't aim for the trust you had before. Let this change you, but choose to be an active part of that evolution. Ask the hard questions, honor what you've been through, and don't hide your journey from future partners. You want a full life on the other side of this for you and your son, and you're already doing the work to get there. Just be patient with yourself while the pieces fall into place. I know it can feel like right now that you'll never build trust again. But I want to share something with you that I hope will help. Often we think about people as people we trust or people we don't trust. And actually there are stages and levels to trust that allow us to move at our own pace in our own time in a way that feels safe. When you first meet someone, you actually start at zero trust, no trust. Some of us immediately project trust onto people just by the way they look or what they do for work or how they speak. But the reality is you don't trust someone when you meet them. This isn't about being skeptical or cynical. It's about starting at zero. It's not about starting at minus five or minus 10, just neutral. Then you build something called transactional trust. Transactional trust is they do what they say and they say what they do. If they say they show up at a certain time, they do that. If they say they're going to call me, they do that. And I do the same. This allows us to get to a transactional space of trust where we're still measuring it. This might sound unromantic, but it's actually very helpful. The third stage is called reciprocal trust. This is when you trust someone enough that you know they'll do something back for you, but you're not counting anymore. You know you'll do things for them without having to make a note of it. Reciprocal trust means trust is flowing and we both go out of our way for each other without counting who's doing more or less. That's where we all want to get to, but sometimes we jump too far ahead. And finally, we have unconditional trust. It's like a God-level trust. Maybe the trust a child has in a parent that's healthy. It's very rare and not something we should expect from humans generally, but sometimes we put that on people. So often when we've put a high deal of trust on someone and now we're experiencing a betrayal, that's the gap that we're experiencing. You trusted this person, they've let you down and they're no longer here. Pain, that's the extent of the pain you're experiencing. Please don't bottle it up. Please don't feel guilty for feeling that way. And definitely don't blame yourself for this situation. I'm wishing you all the best, putting in a prayer and meditation for you and sending you lots of love as you move through this. This episode is brought to you by Wayfair. Home should be a place that feels like a sanctuary, a space that truly reflects who you are, but it can be challenging to balance style, budget, and endless options. 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That's a long story, but if I had to give it a name, I would call it betrayal. For a long time, my mind stayed focused on what they did to me. The injustice, the anger that my life had been put on hold because of someone else's actions. But somewhere along the way, I realized I don't want this experience to define me anymore. I've started asking different questions. What didn't I do? What did I ignore? What boundaries did I fail to set? What didn't I do? What has this pain told me about myself? I'm learning to take responsibility for my past without taking responsibility for theirs. They still do nothing. I can't control that. I can only decide who I become because of it. Some days I feel light. Some days I'm still angry. My question, Jay, is do we really forgive people who change our lives in a painful way or simply learn to live with it until one day it no longer hurts? It sounds like your friend really hurt you. And I'm so sorry for that. As a society, we talk about betrayal constantly on social media, but it almost always focuses on romantic relationships. We tend to treat friend drama like it's petty or minor, but it really isn't. You're working hard to heal from that betrayal. And I want to honor your healing process because I'm impressed, which is why it stands out to me that you seem worried you're taking too long to get over this or that you're somehow doing it wrong. It sounds like that doubt creeps in because you have not reached the ultimate outcome you want, to simply not be bothered by it anymore. But a wound that cuts this deep does not transform into a fond memory the moment you check off all the right boxes or grow from the experience, even though you've done both. A psychologist named Michael McCullough studied how people navigate the aftermath of being deeply wronged. Over months and years, he measured how much people wanted to avoid the person who hurt them and how to see that person suffer. One of his findings, I expected, that those feelings got less extreme over time. But what I didn't expect is that, also, at random intervals, they'd suddenly resurface in full force. When you get reminded of something that felt bad, it feels bad. That's normal. The fact that some days feel light and other days feel heavy is not you failing to move on. You said something so smart in your note. You're learning to take responsibility, responsibility for your past, without taking responsibility for the actions of the one who hurt you. You sound like someone who's looking honestly at her own patterns, the red flags you ignored, the boundaries you failed to set, while refusing to let that self-explanation become self-blame. None of us are perfect friends, and that also doesn't make us deserving of betrayal. I feel like this passage in the Analects of Confucius might sit well with you. In it, someone asks Confucius about the idea of repaying an injury with kindness, presenting it as the ultimate virtuous response. But Confucius pushes back. He asks, then with what will you repay kindness? Instead, he suggests that you repay injury with justice and repay kindness with kindness. Justice here does not mean getting revenge or forcing them to pay you back. To me, Confucius is talking about accuracy, responding to what actually happened at its true scale. You mentioned that your former friend is still stuck in the exact same place, refusing to acknowledge what happened. Meanwhile, you've gained real perspective. It might not be a dramatic movie moment, but it is an infinitely better type of justice, because that growth is entirely yours. They cannot take it from you. To answer your question about whether we forgive people who hurt us or simply learn to live with it until it stops hurting, give yourself some credit. You're not passively sitting around waiting for the pain to stop. You're actively examining yourself while carrying something that still hurts. That takes incredible courage. I hope you do what feels right for you, but I hope you don't feel like you owe someone who injured you your kindness. Today's ritual is brought to you by Oren's Theory Fitness. Oren's Theory combines strength and cardio into a one-hour total body workout. to you with an expert coach that meets you where you are, designed to burn fat, build muscle and help you live a longer, more vibrant life. You're first class free at orangetheory.com forward slash on purpose. One of the biggest misconceptions about creating lasting change is that it starts with a dramatic transformation. But in reality, our lives are shaped by the small rituals we've returned to consistently. Something as simple as setting aside one hour to move your body can completely shift the rest of your day. Movement gives us the space to process stress, improve our focus and approach the rest of the day with greater clarity and intention. Every time you keep that commitment to yourself, you're doing more than exercising. You're building confidence, resilience and trust in yourself. Those small promises kept consistently become the foundation for meaningful and lasting change. Once again, the ritual was brought to you by Orangetheory Fitness. Complete strength and cardio delivered in one hour, a different workout every day and an expert coach that meets you where you are. Head to orangetheory.com forward slash on purpose to learn more and get your first class free. Terms and conditions apply. See web page and studio for details. Don't let someone who betrayed you keep causing you pain because you don't want to let go of it. Often we let people define our lives based on an experience we had with them because we don't want to let go of it. We continue to repeat it within our minds and hearts. Forgiveness is more about you being able to move on than you being okay with what happened to you. It's more about you being able to move forward than still being angry about what you experienced. It's more about you being able to take the next step in your life rather than being weighed down by their betrayal. When you see forgiveness in that way, it becomes a friend, not something that's difficult to do. I want you to focus on yourself right now. I want you to allow yourself to move at a pace that feels comfortable to you. I want you to learn the lessons, the signs that you missed, the boundaries you didn't set, the moments you shrugged off and just let pass by so that you can set healthier boundaries moving forward, so that you can protect yourself from betrayal. And even as I said, I realize sometimes no matter how much we protect ourselves, we can't because people can do surprising things. So all we can choose to do is recognize that there was a you before you met this person, there was a you during your friendship with this person, and there is a you after this relationship. You have existed before, during, and after, and will continue to do from now on. So I want you to realize that there was a you before you met this person, there was a you every relationship you ever have. Don't forget that you exist as an entity separate of any connection or relationship and invest in that person. Thank you for trusting me with these extremely vulnerable questions. Giving grace isn't always easy, whether it's to someone else or to yourself. I hope you show a bit more grace to yourself today. I'm so grateful for every voice note you send in, and I'll be right here waiting for the next one. Thank you so much. Thank you.